


Ever the Surprise

by tsurai



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: First Anniversary, M/M, Massage, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:18:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3909286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsurai/pseuds/tsurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a <a href="http://tsuraiwrites.tumblr.com/post/118537576156/cullrian-prompt-their-first-year-anniversary">prompt on tumblr</a>: first year anniversary. </p><p> Cullen is working late into the night. Dorian seeks to rectify this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ever the Surprise

Cullen sighs as two strong arms slide around his shoulders, settling over the fur pauldrons as Dorian presses soft lips against his neck, moustache tickling Cullen's skin.

“You're working late, Commander,” the mage murmurs, brushing a kiss along his nape. “I expected you to have finished with the reports hours ago.”

Cullen sighs again, this time with weariness as he continues to write. “One of Leliana's scouts brought word from a Bann further south – apparently there has been some evidence of Red Templar presence, what little remains after the Elder One's defeat. He's calling for Inquisition troops to aid his forces in rooting them out.” He feels Dorian's lips twitch into a frown.

“And Leliana dropped this on you, today of all days? Couldn't Evie have handled it?” His voice holds a spark of irritation in it, one that promises retribution. Cullen can't hold back his smirk, catching the Tevinter's hand with his free one and kissing the back in gentle apology.

“You know as well as I that the Inquisitor is in the Fallow Mire until next week.”

“And thank the Maker she decided to spare me that dreadful place,” Dorian shudders, tangling his fingers with Cullen's when he makes to let go. He allows the other man to keep his hand, trying not to let the soft, warm skin distract him from the words in front of him. “Nonetheless, could you not delegate?” Dorian cajoles.

“Knight-Captain Rylen has been abed with fever the last two days,” Cullen says, but can't stifle his yawn with both hands occupied.

“Oh, _amatus_ ,” Dorian tuts, drawing away from his shoulders to lean against the desk. He never relinquishes Cullen's hand, dragging a thumb over pale and scarred knuckles. “You look exhausted.”

“I didn't forget,” Cullen hastens to assure him, “I meant to be finished long before this, but the report-”

“Is not so important it can't be finished in the morning. You should be in bed.” 

“But-”

“Honestly Cullen, even if you finished this very moment, is there anyone still awake to read it at this hour?”

Cullen frowns down at the parchment. Dorian evidently takes his moment of inattention as permission, because next thing he knows the mage is plucking the quill from his fingers and tugging him out of his seat.

“Up we go,” he says, nudging Cullen towards the ladder that had caused no end of grief from the man when he finally decided to move in. Cullen has the papers to requisition a staircase built... _somewhere_ on his desk. Truly, he is tired. And he's sure Dorian would come up with yet more brilliant jabs at his mental prowess if he bothers to argue, so better to just go with the flow. His shoulders ache as he pulls himself up and through to the next floor, the mage climbing right behind him. 

“We had plans,” he manages, wobbling a bit on his feet while he shrugs off his mantle. Dorian takes it from him, casting it over the back of a plush armchair with little care. 

“We did, and those plans can be postponed for the morning,” the mage says, turning to divest him of his armour. Soon Cullen is stripped down to his smalls, hair rising from the chill of the room. “As for now, _I_ have a new plan,” Dorian continues, “be a good Commander and lie on the bed. On your stomach, if you please.” 

Cullen blinks but, as he's learned when these moods take the man, it's really best that he comply. Additionally, when his face meets the fluffy Orlesian pillows Dorian had absolutely insisted that he purchase, he feels the exhaustion he'd been fighting all evening roll over him like a wave. Cullen sighs, letting himself sink into the bed. He hears the familiar  _tink-tink_ of Dorian's rings dropping on the nightstand, then a long moment of quiet.

He doesn't realise his eyes have slipped shut until he's startled alert by something slick and tingly warm pressing against the back of his neck. “Dorian, what-” he starts, twisting around to look his lover in the eye, but the mage presses a firm hand against his shoulder and he lays back obediently. 

“Hush, love. Just relax and enjoy it,” Dorian says, spreading oil over the mass of his back and shoulders before he starts to rub at the underlying muscles, warm and soothing in the cool moonlight that seeps through window. The muscles that had been pulling uncomfortably tight start to gradually loosen under Dorian's ministrations, turning to jelly as the Tevinter works his way from Cullen's neck to his lower spine. Warmth unrelated to the oil builds in his chest – Dorian had never done this before, and to be honest, Cullen had had no idea the mage even possessed any skill in this area. 

His Dorian, ever the surprise up his sleeve. 

Dorian digs his thumbs into the dimples above his hips a few more times before switching to soft, full-hand strokes up and down his back. Cullen can't help the sound of sleepy interest that escapes him when Dorian's fingers brush underneath his waistband. The man chuckles, apparently taking that as permission because the next moment he drags the smalls over Cullen's arse and down to his knees. It's when Dorian tugs them over his feet that Cullen gains the presence of mind to get an elbow under himself, preparing to turn over. 

Dorian presses him down again before he can. “No, stay,” he orders, softening the words with a smatter of kisses above the curve of his buttocks. Cullen relaxes again, though this time his cock has started to twitch and he has both hands fisted on the pillow underneath his head. 

He hears the sound he missed before – the unmistakeable drip of oil – and groans when Dorian moves to straddle his thighs, both hands returning to dig into the flesh of his buttocks. The sensation is relaxing and arousing at once, and Cullen unconsciously twitches his legs wider when clever fingers dip between his cheeks.

“Maker's breath,” he moans, prompting another laugh from the man.

“And here I thought you were about to fall asleep.”

“Well, I'm not _now_ ,” he grumbles, barely aware of how petulant he sounds. “Dorian, please.”  
“Begging already, are we? I should do this more often.” He sounds smug to Cullen's ears, but Cullen forgives him quickly because the clever fingers he so loves have been re-oiled and are starting to work their way into him one at a time. He moans, trying to push back, but Dorian's weight on his legs prevent further movement. His cock is definitely at full attention now, but again he cannot move and thus can find no relief other than pure pressure from the weight of his own body. “Look at you, so tired and still so responsive,” the mage murmurs, leaning forward to kiss Cullen's shoulder. As a consequence he takes weight from Cullen's legs, and Cullen can feel Dorian's answering hardness pressed against him through a layer of fabric. 

“Dorian,” he says, turning his head enough that the mage can lean further in to steal a kiss, which he does. “Dorian, fuck me.”

“In a moment, _amatus_ ,” is the reply, lovely fingers pulling out of him to tug at the man's laces. Maker, but the man isn't even going to undress fully. Cullen decidedly doesn't care. 

The angle is awkward, Dorian's cock pushing into him from above when he won't allow Cullen's hips to leave the bed, but when the mage slides home he feels the same familiar wave of bliss that he always does with this man. It buoys him up when Dorian starts sliding in and out, keeping time with the tensing and relaxation of the muscles in Cullen's legs as he struggles not to push back into it, moaning all the while. 

He knows that Dorian knows he's found Cullen's most sensitive spot when his whole body goes tense with a drawn out groan. “There we are.” Cullen can hear the smirk in the man's voice, followed by a soft rush of Tevene as the his hips start to snap, moving faster. 

Cullen luxuriates in the pleasure, riding the slow build through his tiredness even as Dorian switches back to Common. “Oh, Cullen. Yes. So good to see you like this. Ah- love you like this. Love you,” he murmurs in his ear, moving faster. The last is enough to bring a smile to Cullen's face.

“I love you, too,” he says back, which proves to be Dorian's undoing. He cries out, a low, desperate whine as he pumps into Cullen's arse several times, and Cullen can feel the man's seed spilling when he suddenly pulls away, levering at the warrior's hips to turn him over before he knows what's happing. 

Then Dorian's mouth is on him, hot tongue working at the underside of his cock.

“Dorian!” he whimpers, a hand flying to the man's already dishevelled hair. “Oh Maker, I'm not going to last long.” He feels Dorian's lips pull into a smile, before the man stops to suck, hard and long until Cullen's cock hits the back of the mage's throat. He can't keep a check on the sounds he makes anymore, little groans building into drawn-out breathy moans as he approaches orgasm. He doesn't bother to warn the other – Dorian's long-standing habit of wringing as much pleasure as possible out of him making it almost unnecessary. Instead he merely tightens his fingers, releasing a strangled shout as he reaches his peak. Dorian swallows around him like Cullen's seed is water, his cock a precious vessel that must be coaxed into giving up more. When Cullen can no longer take it he drags the mage up, pulling him into a long, languid kiss that taste of bitterness and salt. After a few minutes of this Dorian drops to the side, shucking the last of his clothing and dragging the down-filled duvet over both of them. 

Cullen is utter exhausted, but that doesn't stop him from pulling the mage close to his chest as the man throws an arm around his waist. 

“Good anniversary present?” Dorian finally asks.

Cullen hums, closing his eyes. “Mmm, the best.”

“Of course, you will show your appreciation twofold in the morning.” It's not a question. Cullen smiles at that, capturing Dorian's left hand without opening his eyes to press a kiss to the only ring he didn't remove. 

“Of course, love.”

 


End file.
